


is this my old shape

by chailattemusings



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Swan Maiden AU, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8716453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: Swan maidens are mythical birds who can transform into beautiful women who wear feather coats. But if one has their coat stolen, they cannot return to their true form. 
His name is Percival Frederickstein von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo the third, and he has Vex'ahlia's coat.





	

It was stupid of her, really, to wear it to market. She knew the looks it would get her, the way people would stare at the pristine feathers cascading down her back, swaying where the coat ended just above the ground. And really, that was half the fun.

What Vex’ahlia _didn’t_ expect, walking through the streets of Whitestone wrapped in authentic-looking white feathers (and they were as authentic as one could get), was for someone to crash into her and, in the ensuing commotion, snatch her coat and leave her sprawled on the cobblestones in only a shirt and pants, mud smeared on one cheek and so many people in the street asking if she was all right that she didn’t have time to see who’d taken her feather coat.

She _felt_ it, though, felt the feathers ripped from her, plucked from her back in one long tear that had her gasping, clutching at her chest as her skin throbbed with the thievery of a thousand pieces of her stolen all at once. Vex curled in on herself, could barely hear the concerned voices around her, only knew that her wings had been taken and she needed them back _immediately_.

The thrum of magic came later, after the commotion has died, after she was left standing in the street as the market closed and she had nothing but an empty wicker basket and a bleeding back. Not literally, not now, in this form, but she knows– if she tries to turn back, she’ll feel nothing but hot blood and rivers of pain where her feathers used to be.

She followed it; what else was there to do? She followed the thrum of magic, up the cobblestones as the houses turned dark and the sun set, followed the pulse that echoed her heartbeat as the path wound in and out of alleys, around buildings, up to the road that curved up a hill and to the looming castle on one side of town.

Of course.

Snotty rich _children_ who couldn’t just have what the world handed them on a silver platter, they had to steal things from commoners, too. The flash of anger that sparked in Vex’s chest bloomed outwards, over her back that screeched in pain and set her teeth on edge. It wasn’t even a question when she marched up the path that started as cobble and melded into thick, flat stone, leading the way up to the castle’s heavy oak door and the two guards standing in front of it.

They blocked her, spears crossed in her path. “State your business,” one of them, a tall, dark skinned woman, said with a glower.

Vex snarled. “My coat was stolen this afternoon!”

The other guard sighed. “The de Rolos do not deal with petty theft, ma’am. We have a captain in town that you can report to.”

“My coat is _in the castle_.”

They both blinked at this and exchanged a look that made Vex’s fiery anger sputter with a flicker of doubt. But she can feel it, the hot rush of her bloodied robbery trickling through her, through the doorway, past the stones and inside the damn castle where one of the royals have taken her wings and squirreled them away into one of their prized collections.

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose and didn’t move her spear from Vex’s path. “Did you see the person who took it?”

“No, but I know it’s in there!”

“Ma’am,” the second guard said with a shake of their head, “unless you saw who did it or can tell us any other details, we can’t help you.”

“That’s– but–” Vex floundered, words lost to her. Her coat was inside, what else mattered?! But of course to most people, ‘I can turn into a swan but only when wearing my special feather coat’ sounds a bit on the unbelievable side.

“Go to the captain in town, he takes complaints and reports filed for thievery.” The woman waved her off. “Goodnight, ma’am.”

Goodnight? _Goodnight?_ Vex opened her mouth again but there was nothing to say, no proof of her claim except that the coat is _in there,_ she could _feel it_ , and naturally the guards won’t believe that, even if the myths of swan maidens hadn’t already been dying for the past century.

With a huff and a whip of her braid as she turned around, Vex marched back down the long road from the castle.

She did not have a good night, thank you very much. The throbbing pain in her back was too strong to sleep through, the claws of fear and a deep rooted sense of wrongness keeping Vex awake as she stared at the ceiling of the cheap room she bought at the closest inn to the castle. She couldn’t go home, not without the coat, and so spent the evening counting cracks in the ceiling and trying not to think about the way her back burned, how she could feel a thousand places on her skin where the feathers had been plucked, leaving open wounds to sting and bite with her every movement.

 

* * *

 

She came back.

The next day she went right back to the castle and pleaded with the guards. They were different this time, two other women who refused to see any sense or reason, or even bribery when Vex tried to show them the meager gold she’d brought on her original market trip gone horribly wrong. The doors even opened, at one point, and Vex was pushed aside as a whole parade of people walked out. She could see Lady and Lord de Rolo among them, the siblings walking arm in arm with a swath of guards around them. She tried to call out but was quickly silenced by one of the front guards, held back until the de Rolos were out of sight.

Her coat was still in the castle, and Vex did not relent.

She was similarly refuted when the de Rolos came back from their day trip, and continued to harass the guards until they threatened her with arrest. She limped away on sore feet and resigned herself to sleeping in a dark alley that didn’t look like anyone would bother it. She’d only brought enough gold for shopping and couldn’t afford another night at the inn.

Still, she did not sleep, and still she felt the pain of her torn feathers.

The next morning she saw another new guard, along with one of the first ones she’d met. Neither of them let her in the castle and, much quicker than last time, insisted she’d be arrested if she continued to hound them.

“Fine,” she spat, “arrest me then! Bring me in front of the de Rolos themselves so they can judge me for the crime of wanting my stolen coat back!”

They didn’t arrest her. They probably thought she was crazy. Vex left, shoulders hunched, the screaming pain in her back digging in with every step. She couldn’t stop the tears from coming as she dragged herself away from the castle a third time.

The fourth day she did nothing, simply curled up on a dark corner of a street and felt the pain and cried, and cried, and cried.

The day after, she woke from a fitful sleep full of new resolve. Her clothes felt like they were made of needles, scrapping over torn and bruised skin, stained with blood that would surely come if she tried to change back now. She walked, and stopped at the gate at the sight of an open castle doorway and Lord de Rolo waiting for her with the guards.

“Ah,” he said, when she’d stopped short, her eyes wide and stained with tears. “There you are. Come with me.”

He turned without pause and walked inside. Vex looked between the guards but neither moved to stop her, and she slipped cautiously past them. The thrum of her magic _sang_ to her the moment she passed the threshold, ringing in her blood, stronger as she followed Lord de Rolo past the main foyer and down one of the large halls of the castle.

“They told me about you,” Lord de Rolo said, after too much time had passed in silence for conversation to be casual. “They wouldn’t, normally, but I saw you at the gates the other day. I thought perhaps you were someone disadvantaged and maybe I could give you a few coin and perhaps a nice meal.”

He stopped, so suddenly that Vex nearly bumped into him. He glanced over his shoulder. “They said you insisted on finding a feather coat.”

Vex’s hackles raised at the mention and she squared her shoulders, pain crying so loud it roared in her ears and she could barely hear herself as she said, “Yes, someone in here has it.”

“ _I_ have it,” he said, and he finally turned to face her, giving a dramatic bow that caused his carefully coiffed hair to fall over his face, the white strands masking his expression. When he stood, flipping the bound ponytail back idly, he said, “My name is Percival Frederickstein von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo the third, and your coat is in here.”

He reached to his left to grab the knob of a door that Vex hadn’t even realized they’d stopped next to, leading them both inside. It shut with a slam that made Vex jump, her heart pounding as the magic trilled happily in her chest, like a bird taking flight. It was here it was here it was _here_ , it was–

In the hands of Percival de Rolo, as he plucked it from a small hanger in what Vex now realized was a room of strange objects, clothes and trinkets and furniture scattered about and her pristine white coat laying perfectly across his hands as he presented it with a small smile. “A guard caught someone smuggling this and thought it looked like the possession of a noble. We’ve had rather a few items like this found around the castle–” He inclined his head to the other lost objects, “–ever since an, ah, _event_ happened a few years ago that sent some of our noble guests scurrying out of here in too much of a hurry to grab their things.”

Vex blinked a few times, processing the words, but her mind was quickly clouded by _feathers_ and _coat_ and _my body my life my wings_ and she snatched the coat back without thinking, clutching it to her chest and burying her face deep in it. It was like a cleansing river, washing the fiery pain out of her chest and the blood she’d felt since her feathers were torn from her.

“ _T_ _hank you_ ,” she said, pulling the edges of the coat around her shoulders, humming at how the feathers settled into place, where they belonged.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Vex preened her feathers, smoothing them where they’d been ruffled and fluffing the edges, her magic flying through her. If she’d been alone she would have changed immediately, taken off to go back home and tell her brother what an adventure she’d had the past few days.

But Percival was still here.

Vex looked at him, freezing at the intent stare in his blue eyes. Fear tripped over the edges of her joy and she dropped her hands from her coat, lips going tight. “Thank you,” she said again, “for returning it. I should be going.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Of course.” Percy shook his head a couple times and met her gaze again, his expression still intent. “Excuse me,” he said, walking around her to open the door, holding it for her as she stepped out. “It’s just–” He paused, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “I didn’t think I would ever meet one.”

She raised a brow. “One what?”

Percy blushed, like he’d been caught at something. “Nothing, nevermind. I’m sorry, did you mention your name?” He tilted his head curiously and, when Vex supplied no answer, continued, “I’d only like to tell the guards so they can notify me, should you ever need to drop in. With a coat as pretty as that, it might not be the last time someone tries to grab it.”

Vex’s hands went to the edges of it, pulling the coat tighter. She watched Percy, looking for a frown, a sign of dishonesty, but nothing came except his earnest request. She bit her lip, looking at her white feathers again, as white as Percy’s hair. “Vex’ahlia,” she said, meeting his gaze. “But you may call me Vex.”

“Vex,” he said, in a rush of air that sounded like the clouds soaring under Vex’s wings when she took flight. “I’ll remember that.”

She couldn’t stay long– not in stone walls that bound everything inside it, kept it down and grounded and safe but not _free_ – and she left with a quick goodbye. Percy’s face pinched as she waved and walked back through the gates, like he wanted to say something and was barely holding back. Vex tried not to linger on the thought.

The sun was high as Vex walked down from the castle, through the town, weaving past people and carts and buildings until she found a spot where no one was looking, and let her magic surround her body like a fresh spring wind.

Whitestone, she thought, as she stretched out her wings, looked even more beautiful from the sky.


End file.
